


Chasing your Silhouette

by fragilevixen



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, F/M, Flashbacks, Post-Episode Zebras, RST, Smut, There be sex here, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25478476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/pseuds/fragilevixen
Summary: They’d learned each other’s quirks and intricacies on the job—but when did it become over the line? When did physicality become a detriment to them once they’ve taken off their shields? When did they realize the line in the sand no longer existed? (This is meant to take place a couple weeks after “Zebras” – had to assume a timeline, I don’t remember actual dates)“Sometimes a change of perspective is all it takes to see the light” – Dan Brown
Relationships: Olivia Benson & Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler
Comments: 39
Kudos: 46





	1. Blur

**Author's Note:**

> Mild description of sexual assault/violence (purely as a device not as an action) – it is not meant to trigger. Please proceed with caution.
> 
> Also, I’m definitely on the EO ship but I don’t necessarily ascribe to the idea that Elliot would ever cheat on his wife. Creative liberties have been taken to alleviate such issues. Eli was never conceived and the marriage has never recovered since the initial separation in 2007, the status of their marriage is unresolved but in limbo. Don’t come for my head.
> 
> This is an entirely new fandom for me despite having watched since day one. Go easy on me.

_No one else can disarm me_

_No one else has your light_

-Edward Gamper “Stranger Love”

“Put your gun down.”

It couldn’t be real.

The blood, the wound duct tape around Elliot’s wrists and across his mouth, the click of a bullet sliding out of the clip and into the chamber. The only sound that inspired any sense of clarity was the thudding of Olivia’s heart in her throat as she stopped dead in her tracks. She tore her focus off of Elliot for just enough time to bear witness to O’Halloran’s lifeless eyes. She walked right into it and let her guard down as the distress in his eyes pulled back her layer of protection. How could she be so stupid? Stuckey had her in the wrong spot and Elliot had already begun to pay the price as the punctures and slashes continued to bleed through his striped shirt.

“Okay, Dale. Okay,” Olivia blinked and relinquished her sidearm, the shaking of her digits barely noticeable as she kept them extended.

_Don’t flinch. Don’t flinch. Do not flinch._

Her inner mantra was stuck on repeat as the reminder of O’Halloran’s corpse laying just feet away and her partner hung in the balance as some sick offering to the one holding all of the cards. She couldn’t tell if it was Stuckey or herself that had everything to gain. She knew she had everything to lose. The line began to blur as the business end of Elliot’s gun got a little closer and Stuckey’s stance became a little less sure; he was shifty, aching to pull the trigger. Stuckey was capable of burying a bullet in the middle of her back, or her head, and leaving her for dead in the middle of the tech lab. Collateral damage. She was in the way. Her head was swimming, battling against the current as her blood pressure skyrocketed.

_Think…What would Elliot do?_

“What are you doing here, Liv?” Stuckey had disappointment flaring from behind his rage as he digested her arrival. “I didn’t want to have to hurt you, too.”

“Then, don’t,” Olivia’s voice wavered, the scenario playing out in a dozen different ways as Elliot’s muted breaths were audible from across the room.

“I don’t have much of a choice now,” Stuckey had that gun aimed high and true, inspiring nothing less than a hefty dose of tension as she swallowed more of her fear. “You’ve seen a little much.”

“Let’s all calm down,” Olivia’s method of reassurance was hovering between collected and methodical as her chest heaved, opting to pivot to look him in the eye with a certain level of assertion. “Okay, Dale? Just relax. Because you did good. Really good.”

“What?” The confusion was real but he held his ground and stared her down.

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear what happened here, right?” Olivia didn’t think about it as she chose the only feasible way to undo what had already been done as she made a gesture toward O’Halloran’s body on the floor then Elliot in the chair. “One of Harrison’s crazy followers must have gotten in here. He attacked these two, you found the bodies, you secured the crime scene, and then you called me. Right?”

“I did?” Stuckey’s eyes couldn’t stay still as Olivia weaved the careful tale for him, desperation in her eyes.

“That’s what I’m going to tell Cragen,” Olivia nodded, squeezing the last bit of calm from her expression as she elevated her eyebrows and made eye contact with Elliot. “And then, you can finagle the forensics so everyone else believes it, too. SVU hero is killed in the line of duty. It’s _perfect_.”

_God, I’m so fucking sorry._

Olivia knew it was a mistake to look at Elliot but it was a necessary evil to drive her point home. He would’ve done this and more if it were her in that chair; that fact was never in doubt. He’d been through the wringer and now she was twisting the blade a little further into him to really make it count. She’d give her life up to save his and that was the more acerbic part of the situation as she pushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. It wasn’t like refusing to take the shot but it almost felt worse as the silence from Elliot was deafening. He would just have to trust the method even if it betrayed every fiber of his being.

“You’re lying,” Stuckey’s finger was lingering a little too long over the trigger, his tone elevated as he stared her down. “You’re lying.”

“You think that you’re the only one whose life is hell because of this prick?” Olivia didn’t waver with every syllable as she began to back up and let the first heavy-handed slap bite hard on Elliot’s skin before it blurred into the second and third strike as she read him the riot act. “… _’Liv, do this. Liv, do that.’_ I’m sick of it.”

“No, don’t,” Stuckey wanted him muffled but Olivia’s wheels were turning as the panic set in. “Don’t!”

“Sick of it,” Olivia muttered and gave the tape a firm, unforgiving tug from her partner’s lips. “I want to hear him scream!” 

“Don’t you touch me, y—” Elliot’s growl was cut short with Olivia’s hand pushing against the knot of his tie as she wrapped her fingers around the material of his shirt and pushed her knuckles into his Adam’s apple.

Olivia’s knees cried out, yearning to buckle as she let the words slip free, the effort to keep a domineering stance faltering with every breath while towering over her seated partner. “Did somebody say you could talk?”

“Both of you, shut up!” Stuckey’s face was red, the adrenaline pumping as the agitation nagged and nipped in the air, pushing the envelope a little further as he tested the boundaries. “Hit him again.”

Elliot’s eyes were locked on Olivia’s. There was an immeasurable level of strength hidden beneath the glaring amount of vulnerability she possessed—it’s what made him choose her too many times. It’s what made her everything that he needed right next to him. It’s exactly what drove him crazy. Her eyes glassed over and her lashes twitched as she held onto her control. She didn’t need to say ‘I’m sorry’ out loud. It had already been scrawled all over her face as she gradually blinked and exhaled slow. They were stuck in a perpetual nightmare and the aggressive show was becoming difficult to maintain. He could see it in the depths of those deep, brown eyes. All he could do was narrow his stare and will her to finish what she’d started.

A means to an end.

“Don’t do it, bitch,” Elliot muttered and squeezed his fingers against the chair, bracing for the inevitable as Olivia’s hand met his face again, encouraging a little more than a groan in the process, “Don’t hit me ag—”

Olivia cut him off and gripped his neck, pressing the curve between her index and thumb against his windpipe to keep him from speaking. “No more orders out of you, pal!”

“I _don’t_ believe you,” Stuckey was breaking, finally, and Olivia had finally gotten underneath of his skin. “I don’t believe you.”

“If you knew half of what this prick has done,” Olivia had her index directed firmly at Elliot, digging deeper as she rationalized every word and let them move her, cutting open another wound as each phrase became an excruciating plea, “Somebody needs to take him out. I just didn’t know you felt the same way as I did. I never had—anybody that I could trust.”

“Stuckey, don’t listen to her, she’ll turn on you the way she’s turned on me,” Elliot talked right over the top of her, adding to the torment that they were inflicting on each other as they laid it on thick and went to the extreme.

“Dammit, just shut up!” Olivia shouted and glared, sweeping her index at Elliot as Stuckey took particular offense to the outburst.

“We told you to shut up!” Stuckey pistol-whipped Elliot across the left side of his face, throttling him solidly before aiming the gun at Olivia.

Olivia’s voice was ragged as Stuckey kept the gun trained on her, the wretchedness breaking free as she kept talking. “And when this son of a bitch is out of the picture, I’m going to need a new partner.”

“What about Cragen?” Stuckey’s eyebrows went up, attracted to the notion.

“I’ve got Cragen wrapped around my little finger, the same goes with Munch and Fin,” Olivia was hopelessly clinging to getting him to lower the barrel as she held up her finger and attempted to ignore Elliot’s disapproving groans. “Dale, if I say the word, you’re it. Think about it, Dale.”

“I like the sound of that,” Stuckey tilted his head and smirked, his focus off of Elliot entirely as he nodded eagerly.

“You like it because we get each other…We’re connected,” Olivia knew how contrived it sounded but her body told a different story as she held out her hand and softened her facial expression to drive the point home, “We’re connected.”

“We are connected” Stuckey was still teetering on apprehension but his grip on that gun was softening, his enunciation faltering.

“Yeah,” Olivia reached for his hand, moving just close enough to graze his fingers and get him to hold hers with a semblance of affection.

_Come on, come on, come on._

“Let’s take care of the third wheel,” Stuckey rubbed her fingers and nodded his head as he started to move toward Elliot, a determined look on his face.

“Wait, just wait one second,” Olivia was at a turning point as recklessness took over and she forced a smile while her fingers smoothed across the top of his hand, tugging Stuckey’s focus back to her, “I want him to watch.”

The knock at the door nearly took her breath away and elicited an involuntary gag as a wave of dizziness washed over her while she stood at the sink with the water still running. She splashed herself again with more urgency and wiped away the stray droplets as she turned the spigot until the flow stopped. That was all she needed tonight. Instant replay of one of her less graceful solutions that had the palm and back of her hand sore for two days. Olivia would’ve liked to admit that she knew why it was still rolling around in her brain but she couldn’t pinpoint it even as the knocking continued with a little more urgency than the first time.

“Liv, a bathroom break shouldn’t take this long. Are you ready for round two?” Elliot opened the door and raised an eyebrow at her as she palmed the porcelain, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “You can do whatever you’re doing later. Russell is getting antsy and whining about sweat pooling in his asscrack.”

Olivia shook her head and scoffed, the smirk resting on her lips as she tilted her chin to look at him. “He still hasn’t waved the white flag and asked for counsel?”

“Nope,” Elliot pushed the door against the stopper and leaned against the iconography, waiting impatiently for her. “There’s a solid chance he’s got a thing for you, though…might be why he’s not asking for a lawyer.”

“He’s either brave or stupid,” Olivia dragged her feet as she moved into the dimly lit hallway, shaking off the last of the flutter working through her belly. “I’m his type—let’s not make this deep, El.”

“Oh, by the way, Liv,” Elliot stood in front of her as they approached Interrogation One, a crooked smile creeping across his face as he encroached on her personal bubble. “You better not go ducking out on me again because it’s too hot in there.”

“You turned on the heat again, didn’t you?” Olivia slipped out of her jacket and swatted him with the overheated leather before he could reach for the door handle. “You’re a royal asshole, you know that, right?”

“I’ll see you inside, _dear_ ,” Elliot shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and dodged the slap of leather against his exposed forearm.

“You’re lucky I’m too hot to bruise your other cheek and match them up,” Olivia turned around, flipping him the bird as she came to the end of the hall to put away her coat.

“You keep your hands to yourself,” Elliot called out after her, a guilty smile across his face as he twisted the handle and gave it a push.

He really had jacked up the temperature. It was excruciatingly hot in the interrogation room. Olivia gripped the back of her neck and swallowed a groan as the wave of heat spread across her skin, awakening every pore as a bead of sweat kissed her brow as she went from the cooled space of the hall to the sweltering cage the interrogation room had become. Elliot narrowed his eyes at her, a not-so-subtle reminder that she wasn’t going to go escaping their interrogation over a little sweating. She shifted her weight in her ankle-high boots and cleared her throat as Elliot’s eyes burrowed a hole straight into her soul, refusing to back down. She would’ve been lying if she said the look he just gave her was ineffective but it was shifting her focus and tugging at the last of her sanity as their suspect continued to stonewall them.

Cat and mouse. The bait was out and he wasn’t biting.

“You look really uncomfortable, Olivia,” Russell had already, expertly, pushed every one of Olivia’s buttons before she had made a rather prompt exit just thirty minutes earlier. “Can’t take the heat?”

His inquiry wasn’t without irony as he wiped the sweat from his neck and dried his palms on his pants. His skin had developed a reddish hue in patches and the staggered pattern of his open-mouthed breaths hastened. Of anyone in the room, Russell was the least skilled at executing a poker face. He grinned, his sleepy gaze fixated on Olivia as she moved behind the chair opposite his. He licked his lips as he immersed his attention fully on her; studying the sway of her hips even as Elliot’s jaw tightened with displeasure.

“Oh, focus on yourself for a little while, Russell. The only words I want to hear out of your mouth is an explanation of why you restrained, raped, and mutilated four women in the last six weeks,” Olivia snapped and slammed both hands on the edge of the table, barely making a hair flinch on her partner’s body.

“You really don’t want to keep pissing her off,” Elliot had both sleeves rolled up, a light sheen of sweat across his brow and down the curve of his nose, still favoring the healing flesh wounds across his chest and ribs as he winced with a flex. “Playing games with her is a bad idea, buddy.”

“That sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience, Detective Stabler,” Russell lit the match and ignited another fire as Elliot balled up his right hand into a fist.

_I want him to watch._

“That shit isn’t going to work on me,” Elliot gritted his teeth, a flash of Olivia’s fingers stroking Stuckey’s cheek moving into his consciousness as his patience wore and the affliction twisted at his guts.

Elliot couldn’t let it tug at him any further as he centered his concern on Olivia. Elliot already knew Olivia’s breaking point and she was comfortably residing at the edge of it even as Russell Miller continued to man spread in his seat, a delightful sneer aimed at her. She was thoroughly done with his shit but four hours of interrogation needed to be worth something more than a foul taste in her mouth. He wasn’t going to get away with this. Olivia’s knuckles went white as she gripped the cold steel with the tilt of her head as she dug her chin into her shoulder. The slow blink was satisfying as her back went rigid after a necessary release of the palpable grip from the tabletop.

“How many false confessions have you inveigled from men in my position, Detective Benson?” Russell had gotten her attention with that one as she laced her fingers through her hair and snagged a couple of knots in the process. “Tight slacks. Low cut, tight tops that leave next to nothing to the imagination. Repeating the action of running your pretty, delicate fingers through hair that most red-blooded men would love to pull. I’m sure that it’s done a healthy amount of coaxing.”

“Well, I’m sure this is no surprise to you, Russell, but you’re a predator and only predatory men would make something so innocuous become a device or a motivator for their fetishes…” Olivia couldn’t help but laugh as she crossed her arms, letting sections of softly highlighted locks fall around her face. “Is that your motivator?”

“Oh, you’re not going to redirect this, Benson. I have too many curiosities that need satisfied,” Russell scrambled as Olivia found the trigger to flip the game on him, making him more irritated than she had earlier. “You like the attention, don’t you? I bet you love knowing that you get stared at by that uptight mother fucker over there, huh? How many times do you think he’s imagined undoing the zipper on those slacks?”

“Have I touched a nerve?” Olivia could feel the burning stare from Elliot as she diffused the bomb and stepped directly into his line of sight to soften the temper that was beginning to boil. “Sounds like I touched a nerve, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Elliot had to move as he paced the floor and watched her tongue graze the edge of her lip.

_I want him to watch._

Russell’s left hand banged against the surface of the table, demanding their energy anchor on him as he scrutinized Elliot’s movements. “Come on, Stabler, tell me how much it kills you that you haven’t taken the initiative and sampled the product?”

“You fucked up son of a bitch,” Elliot had done his best to not let it get to him but Russell had sent his rationality flying out a window.

“El…don’t,” Olivia grasped his bicep and redirected his torso, absorbing more of his heat than she’d bargained for as his chest thumped against her own.

“Oh, no way,” Russell’s laugh was entirely too loud as Olivia’s grip persisted on Elliot’s arm, the balance of her intensity meshing with a more frenzied one from her partner. “…You already have, haven’t you?”

“Alright, enough,” Olivia veered, converging at the edge of the table with a little more intensity as she gripped the table. “Was that the problem with your victims? Were they wearing tight, low cut clothing and suggestively touching their hair? Did you think it was all for you? Just couldn’t stop yourself, could you? They were all there to be your playthings, weren’t they?”

“You know it’s always all for me,” Russell lacked self-control and a filter as he jolted from his chair, lunging at Benson as his shouts echoed through the room. “Always!”

Elliot had been waiting for him to make an ill-advised maneuver for hours and all it took was getting a weak grip on Olivia’s shirt to flick the switch. The sound of cotton and polyester ripping immediately preceded the haphazard and quick extraction of Russell’s form from Olivia’s immediate vicinity. Elliot knocked over two of the chairs in the tussle and took an elbow to the face as he wrapped his arm around Russell’s torso, tugging him just enough to stop the flow of air to his sternum. A last hoorah of Russell’s strength came in the form of a shift of his arms in such a way that the contents of the file went flying into every direction before landing in a scattered pattern on the floor. Russell flailed as Elliot swung him toward the table as the clang of cuffs reverberated in the air. Elliot bumped against Olivia’s side as he secured Russell’s hands behind his back. Elliot couldn’t help himself as he took a whiff of her deodorant stifled sweat, citrus, and faint coconut while his partner beat him to the punch with the slapping of her own pair around Russell’s wrists.

Her timing, as always, was impeccable.

“You know I could’ve gotten him just fine without you knocking him around,” Olivia breathed heavily as she elbowed him and went to the glass to give it a couple of sharp pounds before moving back toward the mess they’d made. “Couldn’t just let me have this one, huh?”

“Not that it matters but I had a little bit of a vested interest in putting a little bit of a hurt on him,” Elliot tilted his chin, gesturing toward her ripped shirt as he caught his breath and heaved Russell to his feet as Fin and Captain Cragen opened the door. “It’s exactly what it looks like this time…”

“Are you okay?” Cragen was parental in his assessment of the situation as he passed Olivia first, his voice barely above a whisper as she awkwardly held torn fabric between her fingers.

“I’m fine,” Olivia said and turned her head toward Elliot. “He’s the one that’s doing all of the manhandling with fresh scabs on his chest and abs…I’m just peachy.”

“Fuck you both,” Russell fought against the cuffs as two uniformed officers pulled him toward the doorway, the spittle running down his lip as he struggled.

“Sounds like the conversation got a little dodgy in here?” Fin and Elliot had butted heads more than enough but the concern for Olivia was paramount as the reddened flesh of her ribcage peeked out from the ripped portion of her shirt.

“Nothing that we couldn’t handle,” Elliot sniffed the stale air in her absence from his proximity and dabbed the perspiration from his forehead, never once taking his eyes off of his partner.

Elliot’s yellowed bruising across his left cheek stood out in the light as Olivia took a step closer, reminding her for the second time of the game they’d play to get out of a jam. It reminded her of every gamble she’d taken to save him even though she knew the reversal was bitterly true. The thought alone stole her oxygen as she contemplated the reaches of her partnership. She made eye contact with him in spite of her best efforts not to and the doubt crept in. She bit down on her bottom lip, held the ripped open section across her midriff closed, and ducked out of the room before Elliot could fully fathom what she had just done.

What Olivia hadn’t anticipated was that he’d follow her around every corner.

“Liv, come on,” Elliot pushed the door to the cribs and found her sifting through a duffel bag for another shirt, her back to him with the ripped section of her top hanging off to one side. “Cragen’s going to want to talk to us about what just happened in there and you ran out a little quick…”

“Can a girl change shirts so she’s not flashing her fucking stomach to the whole fucking precinct or is that too much to ask?” Olivia was terse as she pulled a fresh top from the bag, refusing to grant him the courtesy of looking him in the eye. “I’d like some privacy.”

“I’m sure you would but you’re not going to get it,” Elliot was unintentionally rough with her wrist as he spun her around, encouraging a yelp from her. “You act like I’ve never seen what you’ve got on under there.”

“El…Jesus,” Olivia let out an exasperated sigh and pivoted in her shoes as the cot rail pinched the backs of her legs until it dug against the material of her pants. “Why are you doing this? Wasn’t all of that in there enough for today?”

“You can act like everything is fine and dandy, but I see right through your bullshit, Liv,” Elliot was less concerned with the concept of her personal space and more focused on driving the point home as his knees brushed against hers. “Every single day, I’m running after your shadow, and even when I am facing you, you’re pretending. Why?”

“If you’ve got something to say then just say it. Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never needed you to coddle me and that’s not going to change anytime soon,” Olivia squeezed the shirt between her fingers, frustration brewing as her partner’s behavior seemed less like an unusual outburst and more like he’d been holding it in.

“So, you don’t think about your power play with Stuckey at all?” Elliot took a step back from her and wiped the thin layer of sweat from his face as he craned his neck back, angling his eyes toward the ceiling. “I mean, really, Liv.”

There it was. They’d tiptoed around it and pretended as though it didn’t exist but it was real. It had taken weeks to talk about it and they’d both let it fester for a lot longer than they should have. The wound was open and Elliot wasn’t going to let it go. Not that Olivia was doing anything about forgetting it. It had been haunting her and invaded wandering, waking thoughts on a daily basis. Olivia crossed her arms and shrugged her shoulders, the distant look in her eyes less than inviting as she trapped her tongue against her cheek. She didn’t want him to know that she’d replayed the scenario a thousand times but the outcome was still the same every time. That acrid taste on her mouth, that look in Elliot’s eyes, and a pang of agony over not being able to look away or close her eyes.

It was strategic. It had to be.

She did it all for him.

“What do you want me to say?” Olivia dodged him and moved toward the exterior wall, winding the fabric of the shirt around her hand while the ripped shirt continued to hang freely from her torso. “That slapping you around and saying really fucked up things about you didn’t bring me personal joy? I certainly didn’t want to force you to watch that cretin stick his tongue in my mouth, either. I thought you knew me a little better than that, El.”

“I want you to tell me the truth, Liv,” Elliot took a breath as he lowered his voice, the agony having its way with his senses as he stared at the floor. “I can’t get the image out of my head and I had to ask myself if it was out of sick possessiveness but I don’t think it’s that.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Olivia leaned against the cold finish of the painted, cement brick and bit down on the swell of her lip. “I can’t be your little sibling that you tower over and stifle whenever danger gets too close. I’m not _property_ , Elliot.”

“Eleven years, Liv,” Elliot was fiddling with the tip of his tie, winding it around his fingers as he shook his head slowly, grappling with the words. “Eleven God damn years. Enough to go from zero to sixty and lose control of all of my faculties without so much as a lift of your fucking pinky. Eleven years of tucking away so much of my sentimentality when it comes to you that the sight of your lips on anyone else's…Despondency doesn’t go far enough and all I can do is pretend that it doesn’t piss me off. It does. It torments me. It kills me…it breaks my heart.”

“You’re a fucking piece of work, Elliot Stabler,” Olivia’s voice strained, a swarm of trepidation whirling through her chest as she fought the desire to hit him as his sky and steel lifted to stare into her soul. “I walked away from you once and I can do it again just like that.”

“Just like that? No hesitation at all?” Elliot refused to shrink as his speech did nothing but piss her off as he groaned into the atmosphere. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t deserve it, Liv.”

“I meant what I said, Elliot, about having rules and not breaking any more of them,” Olivia had already broken them for lesser men but she let the comment slip free as though it carried a semblance of conviction. “It can’t get personal.”

“We’re a little past that, Liv,” Elliot wanted to shout at her but he held it in as he watched the indignance cover for confusion as he groaned, popped his knuckles, and pushed his sleeves up toward his elbows. “Everything fell apart…except for you. You were still here. You _are_ personal and I don’t want that to change.”

“Whatever you’ve done with the Elliot Stabler I know, I need you to bring him back because this convoluted and confusing sender of mixed signals is like riding a roller coaster and I’m sure my lap belt is broken,” Olivia hated being the equalizer but she was witnessing her best friend fall apart before her eyes as she shoved past him and reached for the door handle.

Elliot wasn’t good at grandiose gestures or elucidating the details of his feelings until they were boiling over like a screaming kettle but he couldn’t let her slip away again. He snagged one of her belt loops and tugged her backward, demonstrating one of his more agile qualities as he braced her back from smacking against the wall. Olivia’s knees betrayed her as they shook, reverberated the sensation as the gooseflesh covered all the way to her neck. He made her feel gossamer and ethereal, unnerved and out of control while understating the actuality of her height as he tilted her chin with the tip of his index. It wasn’t demanding but the craving was irrefutable as he sought out a silent acquiescence with the softest graze of his mouth on hers.

Her answer wasn’t so quiet as the utterance came out in a soft, breathy gasp.

“Don’t ruin it,” Olivia was already drunk off of him simply by his touch and his heat radiating against her, both of which were consuming her as his name came out in a moan. “Elliot.”

Elliot’s lips were already tracing the curve of her jaw all the way to her ear while his fingers gathered along the small of her back, tangling around the strip of ripped fabric. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop, Liv.”

Olivia’s eyes rolled back and the Earth tilted on its axis as she didn’t give two shits if anyone walked in or not while her back involuntarily arched, pushing her forward, against his chest. “No, no, no, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

The protective line between them had dissolved with the return of a gaze that seemed to last forever. They’d tiptoed around the broken glass and still came up with shards as Elliot’s mouth crushed Olivia’s, pushing her lips apart as though he’d replayed it in his head a thousand times. Perhaps, he had and knew, deep down, in the depths of her mind that she’d done the same as her fingers gripped his bicep, drawing him closer. Her heartbeat thrummed against him, the frenetic rhythm building with that of his own. He loved her so much more than he could ever say in words as he directed her motions and dragged his fingers over the material of her shirt until her moan vibrated against his mouth.

Elliot savored the taste of a mint’s remnant on the tip of Olivia’s tongue as he felt the chill of the night air radiating through the windowpane as he pressed his palms against the glass. It suddenly didn’t matter that only a singular door separated them from the outside world—for a moment, they existed wholly for each other. Even as Elliot leaned in a little further and bowed his head as if to pray, he simply craved more of her. Elliot tilted his chin and encouraged Olivia onto the tips of her toes while his arms memorized the curve of her spine down to the swell of her hips. There wasn’t anything to pull them back, convince them of an alternate path, or deter them from simply being. There was nothing left to prevent either of them from feeling something real.

“El, we still, ah, have work to do,” Olivia’s eyes were dreamily in reset, lashes aimed down, lips swollen and bruised while reality crashed back down around them in the dim, her fingers gliding along the chiseled edge of his jaw. “Captain will send Fin or Munch out after us and we’ve already been gone too long.”

Elliot groaned and dragged his lips down her cleavage as he pulled her close and buried his face against the soft, hot skin above her shirt, generously squeezing her backside until the grunt was audible. “I know…But I don’t want to.”

“We have to,” Olivia bit down on her lip, the chill of the wall finally touching the exposed skin at her side while she traced lines around the remnants of bruises on his face. “As much as I’d like to keep going, we have to get back to our job.”

“It’s worse than a little taste,” Elliot set his teeth against the material of her shirt before standing upright, applying a soft, completing kiss to her temple as his embrace slowly unwound. “A tiny tease of you.”

The absence of his heat against her tugged at the strings of her ailing heart as she ran a hand through her hair and unfurled the shirt to swap out, a smirk residing on her lips. “You know, it’s only a tease if it doesn’t lead anywhere, El.”


	2. These Games We Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only the beginning of a series of misalignments in the stars but a double dose of stubborn kept it interesting despite the universe’s best efforts to make them wait.
> 
> “The anticipation of touch is one of the most potent sensations on earth.” -Richard J. Finch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure, I’m definitely on the EO ship but I don’t necessarily ascribe to the idea that Elliot would ever cheat on his wife. Creative liberties have been taken to alleviate such issues. Eli was never conceived and the marriage has never recovered since the initial separation in 2007, the status of their marriage is unresolved but in limbo. Don’t come for my head.
> 
> Another note: An AO91 is a Criminal Complaint form and an AO93A is a Search and Seizure Warrant on Oral Testimony form – you’ll need this for a joke. Trust me.

  
  


_It was instinctive,_

_The way I fell for you._

_Like an effortless_

_Intake of breath._

-Josh Walker

11:35 PM

“Hey, Liv, do you have the notes from Russell’s first interrogation?” Munch had been pacing the floor with a robust amount of energy surging through his lanky body, a cup of coffee in one hand, and an open file in the other. “I only have the set from the second.”

Olivia nearly leaped from her skin as she nodded and dug through the pile of paperwork, freeing the striped canary legal pad from the stack while Elliot dangled the receiver against his cheek. “Oh, shit, yes, here…The tornado of notes was hiding it.”

“You’re running out of energy,” Munch elevated his coffee, raising it as though he were making a toast while romantically giving her what seemed like delightful advice at the time. “I’d suggest a late-night refill of a caffeinated beverage to get the blood flowing?”

Elliot stifled a laugh against the phone’s speaker as he ran through his messages, jotting down the names and numbers while doing his best not to become fully absorbed in a conversation that he wasn’t involved in. It wasn’t necessarily working, though, as he watched Olivia chew on a lip that he’d already had the pleasure of tasting just hours earlier. She’d already caught him staring for a little too long as the tip of her tongue wriggled against the corner of her mouth while concentrating on a few forms and vouchers. The maneuver shouldn’t have been so fascinating but it was, in every sense of the word. It wasn’t meant to be sexually charged but every hair on his body stood on end as the gooseflesh popped up like little heat seekers demanding attention.

He knew, though, that there was no chance of getting it as she threw a wadded up piece of paper directly at his forehead to snap him out of it.

“You know Liv doesn’t drink caffeine anymore, John,” Elliot chirped from behind the desk, the squeak of his chair loud in the squad room as he leaned back while the prompt continued in his ear. “ _Herbal_ tea. Thought about bringing her some of that kombucha shit but the idea of witnessing her drink that yeasty crap has me gagging.”

“I’ll kombucha you right onto the floor, El,” Olivia tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear as she hurled another paper ball at him, this time aiming at his nose to send the point home. “You know that has caffeine in it, anyway.”

“The health benefits of that particular fermented, lightly effervescent sweetened black or green tea far outweigh the detriment of the caffeine, though, if you want to get right down to it,” Munch hadn’t quite caught on to the blatant flirting but he was enjoying the opportunity to spout some knowledge as he propped his backside against Elliot’s desk. “The bacteria is good bacteria.”

“Are you on the payroll?” Elliot grinned, the laugh coming out in a short blast as he hung up the receiver. “Sleep deprivation is starting to turn our brains into mush.”

“Yeah, that sounded like a fabulous advertisement,” Olivia elevated her eyebrows and smirked behind the ailing tea at her desk. “The makers of yeasty, fermented tea should really be paying you for that endorsement.”

“Stop saying _yeasty_ ,” Elliot rubbed his eyes and tilted his head back, groaning audibly as the sleeplessness began to wrack him almost as badly as the nagging replay of Olivia’s cleavage against his stubble. “It’s almost as damaging to the eardrums as the word _moist_.”

“Can I get you a refill of a Camellia Sinensis plant free brew? Something from the ginger or mint family?” Munch pointed at Olivia’s newly emptied cup, earning a proper giggle from her as the technical terminology rolled off his tongue as if he’d rehearsed it.

“Sure,” Olivia lifted the cup and furrowed her brow as he disappeared a little too quickly. “No sugar, either Munch!”

“Just not the white stuff,” Elliot made her do a double-take as he looked up from behind his coffee, turning to get himself a refill.

“Well, I mean, not the white stuff and not from Munch, either,” Olivia bit down on her lip and purposely intercepted his hip with the edge of a manila folder, swatting him enough to get his attention. “ _Tease_.”

“Don’t start,” Elliot’s eyes were on her mouth, on the newly awakened hunger that was putting a damper on a desire to do work.

They weren’t getting anywhere on their paperwork and when they were paying attention, Cragen was coming in to make life a little harder with more. It was never-ending when all they wanted to do was find a dark corner to finish what they’d started. It felt a little reminiscent of teenage years right down to the desire to cop a feel over the top of clothes until they’d pawed over every curve of one another. It was like setting fire to a forest that hadn’t seen rain in months; went up like a Roman candle and the heat radiated for miles. The only thing that hadn’t given them away entirely was the careful re-application of Liv’s lipstick before going back into the squad room.

Saved by careful thinking. This time.

“Voila,” Munch’s timing had been less-than-stellar but he wasn’t observant of anything going on around him for a change as he placed a refilled, steaming cup in front of Olivia and proudly smiled at his choices. “No sugar, no caffeine.”

Olivia took a tentative sip and grimaced as the sweet liquid hit her uvula with a little emphasis, nearly choking her as it crept down the wrong pipe. “Wow, that was surprisingly sweet…and very, um, fruity.”

“Peach blossom with a touch of honey,” Munch was unnecessarily awake and high-spirited as he settled into his seat, immediately organizing the stack of work in front of him. “Figured you wouldn’t mind since that tea can get a little bitter.”

The longing, loaded gazing resumed even though Elliot had been pushing the limit of timing as Olivia tilted the cup to get another sip and turned her chair just enough to get his cheesy expression out of her periphery. He wasn’t making it easy on her and he was doing it in front of mixed company. The unspoken had ruled their lives for so long and the foreign sensation of emotions creeping to the surface was something neither of them could have foreseen. For the first time, being hopelessly devoted to the job was becoming more of a nag as Olivia chewed on the inside of her cheek. If it hadn’t been for the blinking reminder of an unfinished screen in front of her, Olivia’s thoughts would’ve been entirely on the conversation that still needed to commence.

It still felt like a dream and she was waiting for the frantic, shrill alarm of a clock to begin.

“How much do you have left to do over there?” Elliot destroyed another layer of concentration as his voice dropped an octave to ask the question.

Olivia kept typing, working her way through the end of the document with a little extra effort as she kept her eyes on the screen. “Did you wait for Munch to walk away again to ask that question?”

“Maybe? Maybe not?” Elliot was only half-focused on his work and had less to complete than she did judging by the vouchers left on his desk. “The question is still valid, though.”

“I have three incomplete vouchers and about four pages of notes to submit,” Olivia swallowed hard and involuntarily tilted her chin to steal a glance at the man disassembling her defenses as though they’d never existed to begin with. “Why? How much do you have left?”

“A little less than that,” Elliot straightened his spine, pushed a few keys, and set another voucher aside, pride seeping from his pores as the finish line was in sight. “Might be able to get out of here at a reasonable hour for a change.”

“Oh? Do you have plans, Elliot Stabler?” Olivia couldn’t help but smirk as she shuffled the paperwork, her tongue hanging on his name while she lifted the cup of sweet, fruity tea, swallowing just enough to ignite another trail of heat down her throat. “Sounds like you have something _exciting_ in mind after you leave.”

Elliot could’ve channeled that energy into productivity but the building agitation in the air was back building like a budding storm and the funnel cloud was poised directly above Olivia. “Thought about playing a little guessing game.”

Olivia’s eyes nearly popped out of the sockets as Fin sauntered past, his attention focused on his paperwork as he lifted his head for only a moment to give them both a sideways, judging stare before continuing. Fin was careful to wait for the silence before continuing to with his tasks, though. It was just his way and he liked to see just how long he could hold that pensive glance before winning the contest. Fin didn’t mind doling out a little ignominiousness, either. If only he’d known that the distress was entirely from being witnessed for only a moment of quiet flirting.

Olivia took a breath, fully besotted with Elliot’s words as the heat emanated from her core while she bit down on the corner of her lip. Olivia knew that Elliot wanted her to inquire but the resistance was there as the girlish impulse fluttered to the surface. The chess pieces were sliding across the board and a check was moving into position. Her fingernails found the curve of her collarbone, needlessly following the line up to rub a twitch of a sore muscle, freeing an audible sigh. It might’ve been too loud, though, as she heard his knees bang against the drawer and noted the painful groan that followed.

_Check._

“What kind of guessing game?” Olivia finished up another voucher, licking the remnants of tea from her lips after taking another drink.

Elliot was still feverishly rubbing his knees, noting the hint of satisfaction in her tone as he trapped his tongue against the inside of his cheek, stifling a laugh. “I’d say that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

The ailing contents of Olivia’s cup trembled from an involuntary jerk of her wrist, splattering onto her thighs. Olivia pushed back in her chair with a rattle, gasping as the wet warmth met skin, highlighting the area as though she’d been sat on by someone with a wet ass. There was a certain amount of relief that the tea was no longer hot but it was the embarrassment of having to maneuver around with wet pants that had her muttering under her breath as she put the cup back onto the desk. Olivia didn’t want to admit that the concept that Elliot had just inflicted on her brain made her nervous and had the thoughts racing in every direction as she stood.

“I’m gonna blame _that_ on the honey,” Olivia had anxious energy about her as her fingers dripped the last of the tea onto the edge of the desk as she met a concerned look from Elliot. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, Liv…” Elliot caught her attention for a split-second as she rounded the desk, a look of pure panic on her face. “You good?”

“Yep, I’m fine,” Olivia couldn’t come up with a better lie but she didn’t stay to make sure it worked as she went walking off in the direction of the bathroom, passing Fin on the way.

Fin made a face as he sat down at his desk, looking back at Elliot as he stood to file away one of the documents he had finished. “What’s up with her?”

“Spilled her tea on her pants,” Elliot pushed the drawer shut and stared in the direction of the hall, hoping to see her come back after wiping down. “Must be the day wearing on her.”

“We’ve all been here too long tonight,” Fin shrugged his shoulders and went back to his stack of paperwork, ignoring the tower of a man with his eyes pinned at the dim of the hall. “I’ve caught my coffee in mid-air three times in the last hour.”

Elliot repeated the ‘yep, I’m fine’ in his head and dissected it a dozen times as he paced for a fleeting minute. It would look really bad to go after her. It would raise every red flag available and every colleague would put the pieces together. The entire precinct, right on up to Captain Cragen, would figure out what had already transpired in the cribs just hours earlier. Despite the implications breaking one of Olivia’s rules, he couldn’t help himself. Elliot couldn’t help but imagine that soft, melodic breath of a moan that had left her lips, the recollection of which set off the endless replay in his mind. It would’ve been torture if he didn’t seek it out like it was the only thing to satiate a thirst.

_“Don’t ruin it…Elliot.”_

“Oh, see, you’ve already willingly done that,” Elliot muttered under his breath as Olivia’s words haunted and drove him to seek her out, even if it were just to discover that it had all been a cruel twist of fate.

“Where’s he going?” Munch came back into the squad room just as Elliot disappeared around the corner.

“I don’t know, but he was talking to himself before he went speeding off,” Fin shook his head, barely acknowledging the question as Elliot’s footfalls became more distant and quieter as the seconds ticked by.

Craving a little bit of her closeness wasn’t something new. Imagining her fingers pressing into the curvature of his back, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, a handful of her hair wound carefully around each of his digits hadn’t been the star of his thoughts nearly as often. He’d only caught that kind of fantasy life invading waking moments three times and it was quickly snuffed out by the reminder of a little band that had once resided on his left hand. Elliot knew, deep down, that the ticking time bomb of what was still unsaid was holding it all back. Olivia deserved so much better than a life stuck in limbo. She deserved more than a man who couldn’t get his life in order or his head on straight.

The squeak of the ladies’ room door and the flutter of her eyelashes brought him out of the self-imposed pity party, though, as those deep, expressive eyes nearly flattened him.

She would be his undoing and he was ready for every moment of pain.

“I was beginning to think you were going to bail,” Elliot watched as she dabbed a fold of paper towel across her thighs, attacking the remnant of the darkened wet spots across her heather gray slacks.

“I contemplated it,” Olivia didn’t mince her words as she kept the paper pressed against one thigh, concentrating on her balance as she glanced down to see if what had happened was noticeable. “I really didn’t need Cragen coming after me later to ask where the rest of my paperwork is when I am this close to being done.”

_“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop, Liv.”_

Elliot swallowed hard, leaned against the painted finish, and studied her as his arms crossed. Running was a viable option but the vein ran deep; Elliot craved her and it was guiding him closer to insanity. Olivia was worth it, though. Synchronicities had driven them to this point but they’d kept just out of reach from one another, inviting more of the temptation to rise. Olivia pocketed the soiled paper towel and awkwardly continued to brush her fingers along the barely visible spot on her pants as she approached him. Everything was falling into place but they felt the tug of resistance; like something wanted to squander the chance to leap forward.

“Did I cross a line?” Elliot wanted to be direct but the thudding of his heart against his chest was doing him no favors as he slipped his fingers around hers. “Take it too far?”

Olivia shook her head and bridged the remaining gap, allowing him to enfold her in an embrace despite the exposure it brought. “It isn’t that, it isn’t that at all. It’s something else entirely.”

Elliot’s heat rocked Olivia off balance and the scent of her perfume had his senses working harder than usual. Elliot chewed the inside of his cheek as he ignored the nagging surges of pain where a blade had sliced him open while every nerve worked until his pulse was drumming along his carotid. Olivia rocked against her heels and tugged at the loose material of linen along the front of his shirt, unintentionally moving closer. Elliot couldn’t hide the glimmer of a smile as the warmth of her palm against him was almost too much for already overworked synapses. It was the wrong place but they were losing the ability to care about it.

“Go on, I’m listening,” Elliot’s thumb grazed the center of Olivia’s palm as he tugged her hand a little higher, resting it against his chest while the chatter of the team around the corner continued as usual.

“I don’t think we need to talk about it here, El,” Olivia wanted to say it but the ache growing in her body was being smothered by the goosebumps traveling down her back as Elliot continued to strum exposed skin as though he knew exactly what drove her crazy. “It can wait…Till we’re done with the paperwork.”

“You don’t think anyone is going to walk out here at this hour with any sort of inclination of anything above reproach going on?” Elliot couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t moving away from him as his index finger moved across the curve of her collarbone and resided along the hollow of her neck.

“Now, see, you’re no longer discussing a conversation,” Olivia licked her lips and lured him into one of the hall’s many alcoves with the backward sway of her hips. “You’re thinking of something a little more…Physical.”

“Failing to see the problem with that,” Elliot’s smirk was a little past alluring and his stance was imposing but not intimidating as his palms met the wall behind her head, tracking down until they surrounded her. “I don’t see you moving.”

“Should I be?” Olivia’s voice dropped an octave as she moved her index finger across his tie, looking up at him with a dreamy gaze. “I don’t think I should be.”

The only one at risk of being recognized or identified was Elliot but the thought alone was exhilarating for both of them even as he bent his arm and nudged her with the tip of his nose. Olivia inhaled sharply, tilted her chin up toward him, and nearly crumbled as his teeth grazed her bottom lip. Elliot had been savoring the moment and felt the give as his bottom lip pushed hers down, parting them enough to feel her trembling. There was something animalistic in it as the tease crossed the line and a hum of electricity passed between them as the already hot atmosphere became a little more humid. This little stunt certainly made the cribs look like child’s play as Olivia’s fingers clasped around his tie, firmly grasping the material as he took a step closer. She just wanted him near, even if the stakes just climbed a little higher.

They’d never felt more alive and at the same time, more exposed.

“Elliot, I need your copies of the AO93As and the 91 forms for the Brody case,” Munch’s voice echoed in the hall and put a damper on anything blooming against the cool surface of the wall as Elliot’s head snapped to the side and his spine went rigid.

_Munch, you bastard._

“What?” Elliot straightened his tie while a confused look intensified, the balance just off-kilter while he shifted back just a touch. “Oh, the forms—My desk, they’re on my desk. I’ll come to get those in just a second.”

“Need the rest of Liv’s paperwork as well,” Munch furrowed his brow and loitered unnecessarily, scrutinizing Elliot’s face as he fidgeted in the middle of the hall. “Why are you sweating?”

“It’s…Hot…In the building,” Elliot looked good in shades of flustered while Olivia kept herself firmly against the wall, palm across her mouth to stifle a laugh. “I’ll be right there.”

Munch would’ve delved deeper but the bewilderment was undeniable as he gave a nod and turned back toward the squad room. Olivia didn’t wait long to peek from around the alcove, the blush across the apples of her cheeks as she came up beside Elliot. They had gotten a little too close to embarrassment but the amusement was undeniable. The match had been struck and a flame licked at a glowing ember as it waited for another spark. Elliot finally tilted his chin and looked at Olivia as a low giggle finally left her lips.

“Did you catch exactly what Munch asked for, El?” Olivia was still laughing as she started tracking backward toward the squad room.

“Yeah,” Elliot elevated a brow at her, enchanted by the sound of that laugh as he followed the gentle swaying of her hips. “Paperwork, Liv.”

“Search and seizure based on oral testimony and the criminal complaint documentation, specifically,” Olivia broke it down to the worst, dirtiest utterance and watched Elliot choke on his spittle as he hesitated at the doorway. “Talented tongue and a lot of moaning.”

“I am going to pass over all of that and pretend like I don’t have work to finish before I can address what just happened,” Elliot had a pleasant shade of pink on his face as he held in the laugh and lowered his voice. “And what you just said.”

Olivia still had a grin plastered on her face as she stopped short of the threshold, pressing her lips together for a moment as another laugh begged to be set free. “At least I know you have an oral fixation now, El.”

“Oh my God, Liv,” Elliot rolled his eyes and tripped over his own feet as he watched her sink into her chair.

Elliot did a silent Hail Mary and listened to a wheeze of a whine from across the aisle from Olivia as she fidgeted. They both shuffled the paperwork in front of them and fought the urge to look at each other as the inhale puffed into their chests to stay for a long moment. They both stared at the short, minuscule pile of paperwork in front of them and knew that it was going to be the death of them as the clock ticked and the tension continued to notch. They’d never been more eager to be done with a day’s work.

Hell, they’d never been more eager to leave.

12:15 AM

“No one is getting the business end of a bat tomorrow,” Captain Cragen’s voice cut through a series of clicks and pen swirls as the shifting of paperwork came to an abrupt halt.

Cragen had a way of breaking through the silence that had the potential of inspiring a certain level of fear and confusion for the sleep-deprived as four chins lifted from staring at far too much paperwork. It hadn’t dawned on anyone that they were done as the uniformly blank expressions provided a hint of amusement for him. He was far too cheerful and awake for their liking. They were all a little sleep-deprived and had begun seeing double as words on the screen began shaking like nervous limbs. Some were worse off than others as a yawn left Fin’s mouth followed by an unnecessary cracking of Munch’s neck. Olivia and Elliot simply tilted their heads, looking at each other as though they’d just crawled across a finish line and were desperate for water.

They might’ve been despite the smiles residing on their lips as reality began to set in.

“Does this mean we can go?” Munch was the first to speak as he leaned back in his chair and marveled at a clear desktop.

“Freedom, for at least a few hours,” Cragen nodded and tapped the edge of Olivia’s desk with the corner of a manila folder, pulling her focus. “Goodnight all.”

“Quick, everybody shut up and run,” Fin was already pulling on his coat, a sleepy expression on his face and a bit of a second yawn weakening his tenor. “Before he goes changing his mind.”

“Are we really done?” Olivia turned the screen off and stood, her knees popping as her legs straightened and her spine went rigid. “I didn't fall asleep at the desk?”

“I’m ready to get the hell out of here,” Elliot pushed a drawer shut and slid his arm through the sleeve of his coat as he stole a glance at the woman perched behind her desk. “Eighteen hours has been enough for me.”

Olivia straightened out the collar of the leather-wrapped around her shoulders, doing little to tear her stare away from Elliot as she mouthed ‘you’re trouble’ at him. His nod seemed more celebratory than apologetic as his teeth captured his lip while he slipped to the side of his desk. The lack of observation from their exhausted colleagues was proving to be more of an ally as pleasantries were exchanged like the last shreds of energy being expelled into the atmosphere. Fin and Munch moved first, passing between Elliot and Olivia as the gazing continued. The motion put just enough of a stop on the mutual inclination between them as Elliot cleared his throat and let Olivia move into the aisle first.

“I don’t know about anyone else but I’m awake and need a beer,” Munch had been dipping into the coffee again and the second wind had set in as he spun around at the door, his eyes darting between each of them. “Drinks are on me.”

“I’m down if you’re really buying this time,” Fin nodded, narrowing his eyes at his partner as they approached the elevator.

“You stay away from the top shelf bourbon and I’ll buy,” Munch had a smile on his face as he turned to address Elliot and Olivia, expectancy on his face. “Liv? Elliot? How about it? You two coming? We've got a few more hours before last call?”

_Just say no!_

They were both shouting it at each other internally. The tight-lipped smile and the awkward clearing of their throats were falling on deaf ears. Munch and Fin weren’t exactly catching on to the position they were putting them in by inviting them along. Elliot and Olivia had already been peeling away each other’s clothes mentally since they’d collided in the cribs and the last thing they needed was to go dousing it with gasoline. It was safer just to pretend as though sleep had been calling, that they were far too tired to socialize, and that they’d be terrible company.

It was better for everyone that no one bears witness to the alcohol-fueled conversation after they’d been pawing at each other on and off for hours.

“I mean, I suppose one or two beers couldn’t hurt,” Olivia let it slip out and felt a white-hot stare from Elliot as she turned her head to look at him. “You look thirsty, El.”

Elliot bit down on his tongue at her double entendre and nodded, carefully choosing his words as he made eye contact with Munch. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”

This was going to be a colossal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t think this would be two parts, let alone facing a third. Be prepared for another section of whatever this has become.
> 
> I’ll try not to get too crazy...Or maybe, I just might.


	3. Smooth like Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wanted to take her home but the inclination to accept an invite for last call seemed like a risk they were both willing to take, even if it meant the potential for exposure on a cool night with a little liquid courage.
> 
> “Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.” – Eckhart Tolle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure, I’m definitely on the EO ship but I don’t necessarily ascribe to the idea that Elliot would ever cheat on his wife. Creative liberties have been taken to alleviate such issues. Eli was never conceived and the marriage has never recovered since the initial separation in 2007, the status of their marriage is unresolved but in limbo. Don’t come for my head.
> 
> You get what you pay for…There be smut here.
> 
> Proceed with caution. 
> 
> You know what you came here for.

_Alcohol is Liquid Courage,_

_Not Amnesia._

-Kef Amaya

12:30 AM

Slattery’s Midtown Pub

8 E 36th St, New York, NY

“You really chose the bar with the latest closing time,” Elliot opened the door for Olivia as the gentle chatter of the late-night crowd had dwindled to a few. “Munch.”

“I picked the bar that has the best selection and seating area,” Munch was just in front of Elliot and Olivia, his focus on moving through the crowd before making eye contact with one of the bartenders near the center. “Susan! Long time, no see.”

“John Munch, you brought company tonight,” Susan couldn’t have been more than thirty but she had a solid grasp on presence as she pointed back toward the door where the stairs aimed up toward the second level. “Your favorite spot is open…Dame just cleaned the table off. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Prime seating and a drink? Sold,” Munch was flirting and it was awkward to witness as he directed the group backward, heading up the flight of stairs away from the louder crowd below. “It’s quiet up here tonight.”

Slattery’s wasn’t Munch’s usual pretext hangout but it was comfortable. It was intimately lit but leaned toward a masculine overture that attracted a certain type of crowd that clung to the Irish whiskeys and pilsners filled with Guinness. The battle between the Irish charm and the athletic tribute wasn’t stark, even as the colors seemed like they wouldn’t typically blend. Unique met charming and slipped somewhere between the two, blending seamlessly. Olivia wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings, though, as she captured the attention of her partner with a flash of a crooked smile and a well-timed unbuttoning of her coat. Elliot wasn’t looking at the interior of the bar, either.

Elliot was looking at Olivia.

“It’s after midnight on a weeknight, Munch,” Fin was scoping out the plethora of sports memorabilia on the wall, mainly of the Miami and UNC persuasion, as an eyebrow arched toward the ceiling. “A whole lotta Miami Dolphins and University of North Carolina regalia up here…”

“It may be an Irish Pub but they’re devoted to the Dolphins and the Tar Heels. Don’t let it fool you, though, they pour some of the best drinks I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking,” Munch opened the balcony door and ushered everyone to the quiet, empty seating area exposed to the open air. “Liv, Elliot, you’re pretty quiet.”

Olivia’s head was like a rubber band snapping back into position as Munch captured her attention after opening the door. “Hmmm? Oh, I was just taking it all in. Looks like it can get pretty crowded around here.”

“Not everyone needs to talk every fifteen seconds to get the point across,” Elliot was still behind Olivia with his digits casually dotting along the small of her back, just enough to feel the warmth through layers of fabric. “At least it doesn’t smell like urine and regret in here, though.”

“I’m going to curb my enthusiasm until I know for sure that those bar height chairs aren’t sticky,” Olivia stepped out and inhaled the barely detectable aroma of passing cars and free-flowing heat from the night air as she slid out of her coat. “It’s passable until then.”

“They just wiped everything down, Liv,” Munch had completely missed the joke as he leaned against the railing and gestured between the tables. “Which one tickles your fancy?”

“Just go with the one _not_ shoved against the wall,” Fin pulled one of the seats out and tapped the tabletop as he smirked toward his cohorts while a car horn blared below. “You don’t have to be picky about where we sit.”

Elliot leaned in close, whispering in Olivia’s ear as Fin took command of the choices, “I think Munch missed an opportunity for another comment about the white stuff.”

“Oh, my God,” Olivia covered her mouth and stifled the laugh as she squeezed past Elliot to get to the seat in the corner, draping her coat over the back.

“What does everyone want to drink?” Munch was still standing as the circular table became surrounded by his colleagues with Olivia postured in the corner, her hair blowing in the breeze. “I already know what Fin wants…Liv? Elliot?”

“Whatever is on tap as long as it isn’t pale,” Olivia leaned against her elbows as Elliot’s hand covered her thigh, squeezing until she had to swallow the yelp. “No light beers, either. No one is on a diet.”

“Guinness is fine with me,” Elliot didn’t move his hand and part of him didn’t care if Fin could see it or not as he swiveled in the chair, watching the subtlest contortion of her face as she covered her mouth with both palms.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Munch was odd as a dutiful host but the bar was one of his comfort zones with an air of familiarity and interest in the old, red wainscoting and tchotchkes all over the wall.

“If he puts on the jukebox, I might have to accidentally shoot him while cleaning my gun,” Fin leaned back and stretched his arms back behind his head, pushing his tongue against the inside of his lip. “You two are quiet tonight and it can’t be because you’re tired or because Munch’s quirky bar is that fascinating. I’m not the third wheel to footsy.”

“No one is playing footsy,” Olivia’s voice jumped up an octave as Elliot’s digits squeezed her thigh the second she opened her mouth.

Olivia would’ve blurted it out the number of times she had to push Elliot’s hand down and away from radiating heat but she was swimming in every thought as she gritted her teeth, breathing through the smallest gap as the sound came out in a labored laugh. It was all she could do to keep from moaning as Elliot’s stronger grip was pushing along her inseam, testing limits like a hard-up teenager hoping to get her to leave teeth marks in her lip. She wasn’t far off from doing just that as another puff of air forced free in a tiny wheeze. Elliot couldn’t have been prouder of himself. Olivia was already squirming in her bar stool.

“Not quiet on purpose. It’s nice out tonight,” Elliot swiveled around in his seat, looking out at the lights along the street while the murmur of late-night pedestrian traffic continued to pass by. “Just listening to the sounds of Manhattan.”

Olivia hummed as he gradually moved his hand back to his lap, the absence of which had her shuddering as she adjusted her posture in her seat and purposely knocking her knee against him as she turned to lean against her left elbow. “Hmmm…I’m just quiet tonight because I’m wondering how often you’re Munch’s drink date for him to know exactly what you order every time you go out. I’d say that’s an investigation all on its own.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not funny,” Fin straightened his back as Olivia smirked while Elliot’s laugh carried through the balcony. “Every time you two decide not to show up—It’s me and Munch, but that’s no date. That’s after-work drinks.”

“Sure, it isn’t,” Olivia crossed her legs and listened to the exacerbated huffing from Fin as she continued to irritate him with the teasing, her smirk faint but evident as she touched the top of the table. “Fin, relax, I’m joking.”

“What are you teasing Fin about?” Munch came back empty-handed but had a cheesy grin on his face as he took the final spot that resided between Fin and Elliot around the circle. “It must’ve been bad, look at how red he got.” 

“None of ya damn business, Munch,” Fin was ready to clock anyone as he tilted his chin up, looking toward the overheard speaker as the music started faintly emanating from the modest sound system. “You went to the jukebox again, didn’t you?”

“When you start appreciating the finer things in life, you’ll have control of the jukebox in the bar,” Munch pontificated, his hands doing most of the talking as his partner rolled his eyes and leaned against the table. “You two don’t have a problem with the Beatles, do you?”

“Don’t put either of us in the middle of your lovers’ spat,” Elliot laughed and straightened his spine as he leaned back to remove his jacket, purposely grazing her arm in the process. “We’re just here to have a drink.”

The laughter was cathartic and they’d all needed a little bit of levity after the day they had. The night air mixed with the sound of a random Beatles song playing over the speaker had given just enough pause to pull another layer of tension from the four. They didn’t do this often. Sure, Munch and Fin were known to silently sip a drink and curse every circumstance that led them to the bar but it didn’t usually involve a lot of laughter or amusement. Olivia and Elliot weren’t often present, either.

Even as Elliot’s fingers moved below Olivia’s, lavishing in a moment of amorousness, they both knew that ditching out on Fin and Munch would’ve been self-serving and premature.

The laughter was hushed as Damien pushed through the door, carrying a tray of drinks and a few things from the bar that Munch had ordered, the tenor in his voice carrying as his back was to them. “I heard ya’ll were thirsty?”

“Perfect timing, Damien,” Munch made room for him and nodded.

“Oh, please, Munch, Susan is fast but she’s not that fast,” Damien had his sleeves rolled up and hair coiffed to perfection as spun around, winking in Olivia’s direction, announcing his presence like a bull in a china shop. “I’ve got a bourbon on the rocks for Fin, a Manhattan for the _stiff_ , I mean…Munch, a Guinness for Detective _Muscles_ over here, and a Hop Head Red for Miss _too pretty for these fools_.”

The flattery was met with blushing and sideways glances from the men at the table as Damien set the drinks along the center of the table, giving attention to each person that ordered them. It would’ve been appreciated on an ordinary day but there was a lot of bounce in Damien’s step as he didn’t seem to linger on the compliment for longer than a moment. Olivia had her suspicions about the effervescent server but she kept quiet as glasses were raised. It was the first time everyone was completely quiet since they’d arrived. Olivia took the first sip of her beer and felt Elliot’s eyes on her, the effect of which was palpable as she spent entirely too long swallowing the most meager amount to reestablish control over the changing temperature of her skin.

Fin waited until Damien was out of sight to smirk from behind the rocks glass, giving a healthy dose of revenge in the form of a little teasing. “You know, Liv, kind of sounded like you’d have a guaranteed date for the evening if you wanted it.”

Olivia nearly choked on her beer as she hid behind the neck of the bottle and did her best not to inhale the rising foam. “Well, I don’t know about all that…it looked more like everyone _but_ me would have had a date with Damien tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, Damien is one hundred percent into men,” Munch was so matter-of-fact with the statement as he put down his drink and nodded while Olivia had an overconfident smirk forming on her face.

“There it is,” Elliot raised his glass and stifled a laugh behind the rim as he took another drink of the dark, almost chocolate-colored beer.

“How in the hell would you know that, Munch?” Fin scoffed, the boisterous tone leaping free as everyone was laughing from behind their drinks. “Come on.”

Munch popped a pretzel in his mouth, wiggling his brows just a touch as the humor only grew as he chewed for a bit. “I mean, I do frequent this bar quite a bit and I have seen more than my fair share of stuff. Damien has a boyfriend and they’re not shy about the PDA.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Olivia elevated her beer and caught a wink from Elliot as her lips touched the top of the bottle.

It no longer mattered that their silent overtures were becoming obvious even as intense stares were exchanged from the rims of glassware and bottles alike. Munch certainly had his eyes open and Fin wasn’t the kind to throw a wrench into flirtation when it interrupted a decent glass of bourbon. They did, however, exchange an eye-roll of their own as their co-workers seemed entirely too involved with a lack of awareness. The tune overhead changed and the energy on the balcony went right along with it as the distinct sound of George Harrison began emanating from above. Fin huffed and narrowed his eyes from behind the glass as he set it back down.

“This ain’t going down tonight. Putting a stop to the many variations of the members of the Beatles, asshole,” Fin took a bite out of a mozzarella stick and slid off of his barstool, inciting a round of laughter among the group as he draped his coat over the back of his chair while reaching for the door. “Gonna go put some hip-hop on the jukebox so we can break up the happy-sunshine shit.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Olivia still had a giggle rippling through her as she let the bottle touch the table as Fin swung open the door, hastily disappearing inside.

“That’s a relative question with a variable answer, Liv,” Munch dodged the topic and stirred his Manhattan with the speared Maraschino cherry.

“That’s a yes,” Elliot reached for one of the soft pretzel bites, dipped it in cheese, and brought it to his mouth, savoring the flavor as the breeze picked up. “Good choice on the appetizers, though, Munch.”

“Yeah, this is great,” Olivia held up one of the mozzarella sticks with marinara dripping off one end, a hint of a smile on her lips as Elliot’s hand went right back to the comfort of her thigh. “Keeps the alcohol from making a full impact and I know it’s been a while since I had a meal last.”

“Speaking of,” Munch furrowed his brow as he scoped out the table before wiping his mouth with a napkin as he stood, the host mentality returning. “I’m going to go snag water for the table. Need anything else?”

“I think we’re good,” Elliot squeezed Olivia’s thigh and grinned at her as she struggled to chew the food in her mouth.

Elliot barely waited for the door to close to caress Olivia’s arm as she slowly turned her beer bottle across the lacquered tabletop. Her eyes diverted, watching his digits as they crept higher and pushed her sleeve up, then dragged the strap of her bra down. Olivia’s head tilted as she nibbled on her lip, the fresh blush on her cheeks while a layer of goosebumps crawled across her skin. He knew exactly which buttons to push and he was pushing them with an expert hand even as she turned to look through the window. They could be seen at any moment and Olivia had become so aware as Elliot’s hand on her thigh finally made the right amount of pressure to wheedle a low moan from her lips.

“You know we’re going to get caught if you keep this up, right?” Olivia pushed hand across the top of his and crossed her legs, intentionally shifting against him as her breaths came out in a series of pants. “Fuck.”

“I should just take you home,” Elliot’s index pulsed against heat, strumming her like an instrument as he glanced past her, through the pane, a smirk curving where a grin once perched. “This isn’t very detective-like, Olivia Benson.”

“You keep it up and you’ll be mopping me up to take me home,” Olivia’s lip trembled as the sensation of Elliot’s fingertips between her thighs sent a jolt through her while the heat continued to climb. “Elliot, everyone will be able to hear me.”

“I’d think you’d be more concerned with being seen having that little bundle of nerves pressed just enough to send you right over the edge,” Elliot’s chin was precariously perched against her shoulder, his breath down her neck as the danger of being exposed grew with every moment those chords were played. “Or…am I wrong?”

Olivia didn’t necessarily need the alcohol to feel a little intoxicated as she transferred her weight in the chair and angled his chin up with her shoulder, encouraging his mouth back toward hers. “You know, you could _wait_ to finish the job…when the anticipation is more than either of us can continue to bear.”

“Might be right but I like the sounds you make,” Elliot let his teeth move across her bottom lip, giving her more than enough of a reminder of his fascination with her mouth with the presence of his tongue against the swell.

“How’d I know that you two left alone for more than sixty seconds was a bad idea?” Munch’s voice sent a shockwave through the balcony as Elliot nearly bit a hole through Olivia’s lip before he did his best to recover from what he’d witnessed.

“Suddenly, this is no longer strong enough,” Olivia wasn’t typically the type to rely on drinking but she was discovering a whole new level of embarrassment as the heat flooded her face and the absence of Elliot’s hand between her thighs nearly ended her. “Not even a little bit.”

“This calls for another round,” Munch hadn’t even sat down nor had the shit-eating grin left his lips as he reached for the door handle, intent on getting Damien’s attention. “Whiskey will do it, right? That’ll make it enticing.”

“John,” Olivia was half-way behind her palms, hiding her face, the groan audible.

“Liv,” Munch mimicked the groan and wheedled a low chuckle out of Elliot.

Olivia displaced her fingers to shoot Elliot a pointed glare. He pressed his lips together and swallowed the noise but it was almost too much to bear. The wiggle of his brow told the story and it made her want to slide beneath the table to hide. Although, the impressive shade of pink across Elliot’s cheeks had an allure all on its own as she bit down on her lip and sighed audibly. This was not what she’d had in mind for a drink with the guys.

“Don’t give me that look,” Elliot’s voice dropped an octave and invited another round of gooseflesh down her back.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Olivia threw a pretzel at him and reached for her beer, hoping to soften the color in her cheeks.

“Come on, if I’m going to get you to talk, might as well make it unavoidable to loosen up those lips,” Munch was still at the door, his pronounced brows dancing just enough to make it apparent he wanted all of the juicy details.

“I don’t think he’s going to give it up,” Elliot elevated a brow, beer in his hand as their intrepid colleague’s expression remained stagnant. “Just go, Munch.”

Olivia and Elliot had busted open the can of worms and Munch had taken full advantage of the opportunity as he hurried back into the bar without another hesitation. They wanted to be more embarrassed but something was comforting in not sneaking around like a couple of teenagers avoiding being caught by the prying eyes of adults. It didn’t help that they were undeniably consumed by one another, almost to a fault. They were willing to step off the ledge and accept the fall. They knew they’d be doing it together; another piece had slid perfectly into place.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Olivia watched Elliot as he kissed the top of her hand while rubbing the curve of her elbow.

“Not a clue,” Elliot shook his head, raised his glass, and peeked at her from behind the rim, the whisper clinging to his lips as he squeezed her hand. “I don’t mind not knowing, though.”

“What did you two do to Munch?” Fin came sauntering onto the balcony with his brows furrowed and a confused look on his face, immediately taking his seat to reach for a piece of pretzel. “He went rushing by me mumbling about a round of whiskey? Are we moving to whiskey? I didn’t know it was that kind of night.”

Olivia shifted her weight and diverted her eyes toward the ground, the flush in her cheeks only intensifying. “He might’ve seen a bit…too much.”

“Now he’s on a fishing expedition,” Elliot purposely looked at Olivia as he finished that sentence just to watch her squirm, the grin a little too perfectly screwed on as he took another sip.

Fin shrugged his shoulders, the nonchalant tone in his voice almost coming out like a letdown as he swirled his drink. “If he had just stood in there for a second longer he would’ve seen exactly what I saw and I’m not surprised, by the way.”

The clang of glassware against the door preceded Munch carrying the four doubles over ice, his mischievous expression still firmly planted on his face. “There’s no need for any secrets or sneaking around when we’re indulging in a little late-night adult beverage.”

“Or you could mind your own business and we could still drink to that?” Fin chimed in as Munch handed him one of the small rocks glasses, the sarcasm roughly rolling off his tongue.

“Wait,” Munch watched Olivia take her first sip of the whiskey, his tone taking a sharp turn as he crossed his arms and got back on his bar stool. “Did I just get another round for absolutely no reason?”

The arguing between Munch and Fin continued while a loaded silence elongated between Elliot and Olivia as they gazed at each other between drinks of whiskey. It might not have been ideal but it felt right. The drink of choice wasn’t exactly the kind either of them would typically reach for, either, but it went down smooth and burned just enough to elicit a quiet purr. An engine revved on the street below as Elliot rubbed his knee against Olivia’s before she quietly flipped the table on him. Elliot could only smirk as Olivia impressed him with an authoritative kneading of his thigh.

Elliot certainly knew that their night had only just begun.

2:30 AM

Elliot’s Apartment

Shore Towers

Queens, New York

Elliot wrestled with the key in the lock, jiggling it without a shred of coordination to speak of. His eyes were on the woman next to him as she leaned against the wall, lip between her teeth and the wisps of her hair out of place against her cheek. He left the loop hanging, swaying against the brass handle, and leaned into her, enveloping her in his arms as his mouth sought out hers like a heat-seeking missile. Neighbors could’ve heard the muffled moans and the thud of palms against the cool finish while keys jingled like windchimes. Elliot craved more of Olivia but he wanted that door open just as badly as he reached back, giving it a final turn until it finally moved.

“Success,” Elliot’s mouth hovered, breaths staggering as he watched her lick her lips before the smile appeared. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

“I think you stopped needing to compliment me when you had a hand full of chest in a cab while I made sure that there were zero NYPD insignias where the driver could see,” Olivia wiped her mouth, the chuckle a little raspy as she passed through the open door and exhaled slowly. “I don’t think I’ve seen your place yet…”

“Don’t judge it,” Elliot flicked a light on and flooded a narrow alcove with soft, white light before slipping his arm around her waist to nip at the back of her neck. “With any luck, you won’t need to see much of it.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to give me a tour after the look I just got from your doorman?” Olivia groaned and tilted her hips back, encouraging heat as she closed the gap between them, increasing friction against his slacks. “His eyebrows couldn’t have gone higher.”

Elliot pulled away for long enough to push the door shut, lock it and discard his coat on the floor, the heat swelling as he spun her around to nibble on her bottom lip. “They could’ve gone a little higher but you can’t blame him…my only guests have been my kids and an angry ex-wife.”

“You are aware that getting me out of my pants isn’t a race, right, Elliot?” Olivia smirked as he had relieved her of her coat and went to work on tugging at the hem of her shirt, her chin tilted just slightly toward the room behind her. “Do you seriously not have curtains?”

“I’m sixteen floors up facing the East River,” Elliot directed her backward, toward the scantly decorated living room, the glaringly obvious reality of a bachelor lifestyle echoing as the white light mingled with the amber lights from the river line. “It’s really not that crazy.”

“You don’t even have blinds. Not one window covering,” Olivia had a smirk residing on her face as she sauntered back to the alcove, flicked the light off, and moved to the center of the large slider, elevating a foot to remove her boots. “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“Nah, it’s really not that bad,” Elliot loosened his tie leaned against one of the mismatched stools butted up against the bar, a smirk plastered on his face as Olivia turned her back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Proving a point,” Olivia looked at him over her shoulder and hiked up her shirt, gathering it in a fluid motion as she pulled it up and over her head, dropping the material on the floor next to her shoes. “How’s your blood pressure, Detective Stabler?”

“Oh…well, damn,” Elliot swallowed hard, watching the subtle curvature of her sides as the glow from outside illuminated her entire silhouette as she tousled her hair for a few long moments. “It’s climbing…steadily.”

“Why are you still over there, then?” Olivia turned around, porcelain clashing against the deep navy lace and silk cradling her chest with one of the straps falling off a shoulder as she transposed her weight just slightly. “I’m waiting.”

“I was admiring the view while my pulse stopped thumping in my ears,” Elliot was slow to approach, his index undoing the last loop of his tie to let it dangle around his neck as he took careful steps in her direction.

Elliot had entirely too much on for Olivia’s taste but she was more than intrigued by the look on his face as she reached for one end of his tie, pulling it free. The lack of drapery hadn’t dawned on him until he could see every detail of gooseflesh on her body light up in the ambient light from outside. As often as he’d pictured a moment similar to this one, he’d never quite placed it happening between these walls. As much as they wanted to take their time, the urge had been building for hours and the lingering twinge of alcohol was still weaving through their bloodstream. They’d ventured just close enough to the edge to taste it and crave more.

Olivia’s lack of patience met Elliot’s eagerness head-on as she reached for the loop on his belt, pulling the slack free until the buckle gave and the metal prong tapped against the frame.

“Where do you want me?” Olivia hadn’t intended on it sounding loaded as she began the methodical task of unbuttoning his shirt while her mouth moved close to the stubble along his jaw, voice dropping an octave as she gazed up at him.

The question fluttered around in his brain, sputtering until it settled on his consciousness and his hands did the talking, snaking his digits around her until they were gathered at the small of her back. Olivia had a lingering smile on her lips even as Elliot’s palms moved along the pressed material of her pants, generously squeezing her backside until her toes were barely touching the floor. Anticipation climbed even as Olivia found the bottom of his shirt and pushed the fabric away from the tight, unforgiving wifebeater beneath. The material did little to shield the marks that were still healing and highlighted the plethora of other scars that peppered his skin. She couldn’t have been more enamored with him if she’d tried and the enchantment of her only deepened as she bit down on her lip as they renewed a longing look.

“What’s that look for, Liv?” Elliot reluctantly removed his hands from her ass while he let her pull his shirt down and away from his arms before tossing it onto the growing pile of discarded garments.

“Taking every square inch of your skin in,” Olivia’s voice was a little husky as she directed him out of the wifebeater and dotted her index around every line on his chest, carefully reminding him of the marks that made him. “Admiring all of you, scar by scar, wound by wound, and watching every muscle move because I’m the one touching you, finally. I don’t know that you know how much I’ve thought about it. Ached for it.”

Elliot had spent years circling every scenario that would end up with Olivia in his arms but none of them were quite like this even as he lifted her by the hips and guided her legs around his waist. Hunger had taken over as his hand slid to her hair, lacing through the silky sections of her tresses as his lips pushed hers apart. Elliot’s free hand steadied her, gripping over the fabric and hot skin until moving to the curve of her ass, pushing her a little higher. Elliot stumbled, groped, and finagled his way to his bedroom, carrying her past a spare room stacked high with boxes that held his past until his knees unceremoniously collided with a fairly sharp section of his footboard. The grunt was mutual and loud, reverberating enough to force a premature pause in their lip lock.

“There aren’t any curtains in here, either, Liv,” Elliot nudged her neck with the tip of his nose as he guided her knees onto the mattress and wasted no time in slipping his hand to the button on her slacks. “The pigeons are going to get an eye full.”

“Or if a window washer working late decides it’s a good idea to drop in,” Olivia smirked and backed toward the headboard, unzipping the slacks herself as Elliot shook his head in disbelief. “The question is, do you gamble on that possibility?”

Elliot had a mischievous grin forming as he followed, dragging the bedding beneath his knees until he encroached in her bubble and her back was firmly against the headboard. “Worth the chance to take and bank on it.”

Electricity collided with budding heat as Elliot grasped beneath the bend of her knees, parting them as he smoothly wrested her toward his thighs. Olivia’s hips came up off the mattress as her shoulders touched the pillows while Elliot bent forward, enveloping her. The mattress gave and the springs shuddered under their weight as Elliot bucked his hips against her while his lips settled against the sloping curve of her bra. Elliot smoothed his fingers down Olivia’s arms, stopping at her palms to trap them against the mattress as the heat and friction finally invited a long, loud moan that vibrated toward the ceiling. He’d never heard anything hotter as he twitched involuntarily against her and groaned toward the headboard.

“Take them off, fuck, just take them off,” Olivia arched her back into him, squirming beneath him as the heat seared through her and crashed against the erection pushing into her inner thighs. “Elliot, Jesus Christ, take them off.”

Elliot nuzzled against her neck, dragging his lips down while his fingertips mimicked the motion from palm to shoulder, moving agonizingly slow as he dipped toward her stomach. “I was going to get there…eventually. Were you not in the mood to wait?”

Olivia bit down on her lip as she watched him make _X_ patterns along her ribs with his mouth, occasionally setting his teeth against her skin and blazing a trail with every move. “I’ve waited long enough for you. I want more.”

“I imagined a moment like this…undressing you slowly, savoring every sound, every spasm,” Elliot tilted his chin to watch her while he coiled the tips of his fingers around the top of her slacks, guiding them down past her hips until her knees were together up against his. “Until everything convulsed and the only word you’d say was my name.”

For the first time, Olivia didn’t feel like a detective in the cribs changing her clothes in front of her partner without thinking about the consequences. There wasn’t a question about the expanse of her skin being seen, being for him, and the finality of his tough, capable hands exploring her curves and setting her nerve endings ablaze. She felt raw, electric, and sensual as Elliot’s index and middle fingers slid her pants around her ankles, discarding them on the floor. The number of times Olivia had woken up with the sheets coiled between her fingers and his name echoing from her lips didn’t compare to the sensation of his mouth tugging at the thin material of her bra. The unsatisfying dreams wouldn’t have properly prepared her for having her legs slowly raked by the tips of Elliot’s fingers as he slipped between her thighs. Fantasy certainly wasn’t reality and the arch of her back as his teeth grazed the top of her panties certainly proved it.

“Do you even know how bad I’ve wanted this?” Olivia writhed under him and pressed her palms against the headboard to keep from moving her hips involuntarily. “How many times I had to stop myself?”

Elliot dragged the elastic down just enough to move the material across her already sensitive skin, exposing the tender spots to the air and encourage more of her slick wetness as he tilted his thumb against trembling flesh. “What did you have to stop yourself from doing, Olivia? Tell me.”

“Ah, oh, my God,” Olivia’s eyes rolled back as his middle finger made a circle, avoiding the throbbing source of heat before delicately pulling the satin and lace down even further as she regained her focus on his hedonistic gaze. “Finishing myself on those late night calls just to see if you’d hear the moaning.”

“Maybe, you should have,” Elliot had the slightly wet panties wadded up around his hand as he discarded them while shifting his torso forward, finally sipping the tentative digits past soaked, delicate folds to play her like a fiddle as he hovered over her. “I should have.”

“Uh-huh, mmmhmmm,” Olivia tilted her chin back and rocked against his hand as the friction of his pants moved against her inner thighs, hinting at the not-so-subtle erection pressing against her. “Elliot, please, don’t stop, don’t ever stop…fuck.”

The sound of her moans staggered with every slight alteration of the piano-esque notes he had been playing inside of her, building a waiting orgasm with each passing second. Olivia held onto him, gripped his bicep, and slipped her tongue past his teeth. She craved him and the hunger was undeniable as the shockwave inspired a muffled moan from her lips. Elliot’s eyes closed and he slowed the rhythm against her clit to a dull crawl as her hips took over. She wanted his hands on her; breasts, thighs, anywhere as long as he kept going.

Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler were on a collision course and the brakes had failed, destined to meet head-on as his arms surrounded her, working at the clasp behind her while he brushed his jaw across a nipple beneath the bra.

Olivia whimpered as she tugged at one of his belt loops, feverishly gripping his musculature through his pants, creating the smallest gap as the sound echoed for a long moment. “Why in the hell are you still wearing these?”

“They are the only thing keeping me from driving you into the fucking headboard,” Elliot groaned through his teeth as she managed to slide her slender fingers past his waistband, gripping the aching erection just enough that he tossed his head back, keening toward the ceiling. “Oh fuck, Liv, wait, wait…I’m gonna…not yet!”

“What is stopping you?” Olivia murmured the question against his neck and set her teeth against his Adam’s apple as the distinctive sound of his zipper perked her ears.

The answer wasn’t simple. It was prolonging night, elongating the sweet sensation of her tongue against his, and controlling the pace of what had taken so long to come to pass. They had craved each other for so long that sensory overload tipped the scales and Elliot’s slacks drifted down to his knees. Olivia had let him consume her but she hadn’t given in as she reached behind her back to pop the prongs free between her shoulders. It might’ve looked a lot more graceful to her but Elliot didn’t feel it had been as he shimmied free of the pants, adding them to the growing pile of thrown clothes.

“Jesus, I know I already said it, but, fuck, you’re beautiful,” Elliot had his thumbs perched at the waistband of his boxers as he regained posturing between her perched knees as she carefully concealed her sex, tossing the bra as a final maneuver in the dark.

Olivia shifted her knees, chewed on her bottom lip, and leaned against the headboard with her nails raking across her knees, strategically playing peek-a-boo with her extremities. “You know you’re sexy but, you’re still…very overdressed, Elliot Stabler. You’re hiding something that I want.”

Elliot took a subtle amount of gratification in being desired to the detriment of the throbbing behind the thin material of his boxers. Olivia practically glowed in the looming moonlight streaming through the high window, the rippled pattern of glass across her alabaster and cream. A dull twist of pain tingled across every healing wound as Elliot’s skin became peppered with patterned gooseflesh, inviting a guttural hum against his teeth as pursed his lips. The overwhelming clash of furor nearly ended the night a little prematurely as a glimmer of a smile began to peek out from the corners of his mouth. Elliot took his time with the last article of clothing and felt the bed shudder beneath them as magnetism took over.

“El,” Olivia keened, hitching her legs a little higher around him while grasping a handful of his backside, urging him forward. “Love me…never stop…till there’s nothing left.”

Olivia’s voice struck him to his core. Desperate to feel, yearning illuminated as the rasp deepened, with a silky note that only made him want more. Melody married lust and bloomed in the dark while Olivia angled her hips to meet Elliot’s. The light in Elliot’s eyes flickered and scattered as they dilated as Olivia licked his bottom lip and guided his hips against the quivering, growing heat between her legs. Elliot pressed his palm against the headboard, locking gazes with her while driving into her painstakingly slowly.

“I already do and I always will, Liv,” Elliot’s voice cracked as he’d filled her to the hilt and listened to the throaty whimper as her weight shifted against the headboard. “Fuck, why do you feel so good?”

“Imagine how good it’ll feel…when everything tightens and the room starts spinning,” Olivia pushed her elbows against the mattress, arched her back and rolled her hips, closing the last gap that remained between them, moaning into the air. “…and the only sound is the squeak of the springs, ah, and your name through the air. Fuck!”

Elliot exhaled, slipped his hand around Olivia’s back, and dotted a trail down her spine as she came up to meet him. He held on and thrust slowly, cupping a hand against her ass while the other teased the breasts that were heaving closer and closer to his face. Olivia’s eyes rolled back as her thighs slapped against his, vibrating through her like a bass drum as the second thrum nearly took her breath away while she twisted her hips beneath him. Olivia didn’t care how fast or slow Elliot was going as the thumping of the headboard matched each thrust until it was a blur of sound, hearts beating, and unintelligible vocalizations. Elliot stuttered his movements, slowing down and picking up speed as Olivia’s moans became louder, more urgent, and ran together in a singular form.

She was hanging by a thread and her slick walls were already gripping him like a vice with every thrust of the hips.

“El, fuck, God, I’m close,” Olivia dug her fingers into his shoulders and tossed her head back, narrowly missing the headboard. “I’m so close!”

Elliot groan came from his throat and rivaled the sound she’d made as he drove harder, faster, his chin angling up until his eyes were staring up at the light fixture. Every nerve cried out and the waves crashed against the shore as Olivia made eye contact with him as she let go. They’d gotten drunk off of the sensation as ecstasy climbed and spilled over; limbs shook, muscles twitched, and the white flag was waved. They surrendered to it, let it shake them, and sweep through their veins like water. Elliot’s hips slowed to a crawl, sputtering the last of his energy before a blissful collapse in Olivia’s grasp.

“I don’t want to move,” Elliot kissed a trail from her forehead to her lips, reveling in the lingering, rolling vibration of her orgasm as it continued to come down against him.

“Then don’t,” Olivia slid her knees a little higher and caressed his back as she grinned sleepily up at him. “I’m all yours…and I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my girls in the writers group, you know this wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without you. It’s taken on a mind of its own and it finally crested. 
> 
> Damn. 
> 
> I hope the juice was worth the squeeze.
> 
> Quotes by:  
> Eckhart Tolle  
> Kef Amaya
> 
> As always, comments are encouraged and strongly requested. Smut is NOT my forte but this was a plot bunny on coke and alcohol. She turned into a beast and I just went along for the ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Episodes quoted:
> 
> Zebras
> 
> Quotes by:  
> Dan Brown  
> Edward Gamper
> 
> To Cate, girl...you are a lifesaver and I am eternally grateful for you reading through bits and pieces. You kept me from losing my sanity.  
> To the SVU writer's group that saw little snippets...thank you so much for giving me strength.
> 
> Reviews are encouraged and appreciated. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
